Starved
by BadgerBooka
Summary: Ally is a succubus, but not the regular kind, and Dean and Sam have to decide if they're going to help her and how! Selicious smut, ooey gooey ending, NOT for kiddies! Literally hardcore M rating.


**This is a one shot. Aftermath of a case wherein fourteen men die in the space of a few months in one town, all college aged and well liked. Smutty, gooey, Dean and succubus plus a little togetherness... you get it :) enjoy PS. not for kiddies, seriously 18+**

"-believe there is life down these stairs-"

She heard the gravely words as though they'd been spoken through a long tunnel, a dark twisting tunnel that had sucked her in a lifetime ago, a tunnel that was still sucking her in now.

"Here! Sam!" a second voice, louder, closer.

Too late.

She faded again, sinking into the black agony that plagued her mind.

The bony girl dropped her head back on the dirty, caseless pillow. Her face was smudged with dirt and bruises, her bare arms ringed with matching marks, just like her legs. All she wore was an XL white t-shirt that had had it's sleeves ripped off.

Standing a good two yards away, Dean Winchester put his hands on his hips. The slimey bastard they'd just fought upstairs, the one who'd ended up falling on his own knife, had been human which meant the "girl" was the monster they'd been tracking... right? She sure didn't look like she could have ganked five men, she didn't even look capable of slapping _one -_ but no, monsters were monsters.

He turned back to the stairs, "Sam! Get down here with the horn!"

Castiel appeared, kneeling by the side of the bed, eyebrows pinched together.

Sam thudded down the bare wood stairs, glancing around at the barren basement before he handed over the elk horn. Doused with holy water and wrapped with a red thread, it was a weapon built to kill a succubus - which was what the passed out girl was.

Raising the horn, he strode over to the bed, already thinking about the bar he'd seen coming into town-

"Dean, wait."

He stopped, "Cas?"

Putting a hand over the girl's forehead, his frown deepened, "This girl is not responsible."

Dean lowered the horn. "What?" he demanded. They'd been hunting the town's local succubus for weeks and had finally tracked it to this location. What else could it be but the dingy creature on the cot-

Above, a shriek of fury had Sam and Dean racing back up the stairs. The librarian, a shrewish lady with too tight a bun was kneeling beside the dead man. At the sound of their approach she turned and both Sam and Dean saw the brilliant violet gaze.

Succubus!

A brief fight ensued. Sam broke a coffee table, Dean dented the plaster wall, Same knocked over a row of dusty porcelain babies, and Dean stabbed the bitch in her eye socket. With a screech, she fell to the floor and - thankfully - burned up. They both took a breather, massaging soon to be bruises.

"Love it when they do that. Makes it so much easier to clean up."

Dean grunted, already heading back down the stairs, "So what's the deal?"

Castiel released the girl's hand, "She is a prisoner of the succubus you just killed."

"So what? Gank? Not gank? What is she?"

Sam crouched on the other side of her cot, "Succubus, but... remember what I was saying about there being many breeds?"

"Yeah? So?"

Castiel stood, "Her particular kind, unlike the one you just killed, does not feed on life force, nor does she consume souls. Her kind are very rare-"

"Spit it out."

"She lives for sex."

Sam half choked, standing, and Dean demanded, "What?"

"She requires intercourse-"

Sam interrupted, "What he's saying is this... girl is literally your dream come true, Dean."

Dean took a step back, "Wha-"

Castiel looked down at her, concern radiating from his every pore, "From what I could gleen from her mind, which is blackened in her current state, she was locked down here a year ago by the succubus, who stole her customers and killed them. Up until a month ago, she was surviving by living off the... attentions of the male, but he was forbidden from visiting her for reasons she never found out and since then she has been starving-"

Suddenly, the girl on the bed started jerking, as though her heart were trying to rip out of her chest. Sam dropped to his knees, fumbling with his pick locking tools to undo the manacle clamped around her wrist. In seconds, it fell to the floor and Castiel swooped down, sweeping the limp girl up like a doll. He spoke without taking his eyes off her face, "Meet me as soon as you can at the motel."

He was gone.

Sam, with Dean trailing a step behind, wasted no time in running to the car and nearly speeding back to the motel. It was a nicer place than they usually stayed in, but the small town had little to offer in way of accommodation so they'd painlessly upgraded. There room was on the corner, a suite.

Inside, Castiel was sitting on the edge of the bed next to the gasping girl. Her face was even paler then it had been, but her eyes were open.

An angel. She could see his wings, beautiful despite being torn. Was she going to get to go to heaven, after all she'd done? Ally couldn't comprehend what heaven would be like. No sex, she thought as she struggled to breathe, a pang shooting through her. But sex was so much fun.

Across the room, the door slammed open.

Two boys, gorgeous and tall, stepped through. She nearly cried out, "Where were you a week ago?" but she didn't have the strength. Ally shuddered, she knew one thing, she was going to die.

"I can heal her, she'd nearly human enough for that, but in her state, she's too weak-"

"You said she lives for sex?" demanded the short haired one.

The angel replied, "Yes-"

"Get out. And you'd better not come back here without pie"

The long haired one suddenly grinned, "How many?"

He shoved him and, though she wished he would stay, the angel left with the other. She closed her eyes. She knew who they were, any near-demon worth their salt would. The Winchester brothers and the angel. She'd heard stories. They had no mercy. If any drop of demon tainted a person's blood, their famed dagger wound up hilt deep in their chest. Ally mentally backed up as he stepped up to the bed. She'd never died before and she didn't particularly fancy being fully present for the event.

Suddenly, his arms were scooping her up from the bed, "You need a shower."

She squinted, confused. He wanted her clean? What, did he have something against germs when he slit a demon's throat?

But no. When he - dare she say it - carefully propped her up on the cold shower bench, he turned on the water and started stripping. Even as the slowly dying demon she was, she recognized a body worth drooling over. Ripped arms, nicely solid middle, toned legs - he was - naked.

He was naked?

She watched with lidded eyes as, astoundingly, he slid down onto the floor and started -

Ally had never believed in miracles, but she did now. She closed her eyes, seeing the threads of sex in the darkness. A couple several rooms over were going at it, but they were too far away. No, her starved body was focused entirely on the virile man masturbating on the shower floor beside her. A thin trickle of red heat warmed her heart, settling it into a stronger rhythm.

He was rescuing her? Why? She was a demon, he was a bloody Winchester.

When his head fell back against the rain studded glass, she inhaled sharply as the last deeper shot of sex pooled in her stomach. The vile man, as she'd come to call him, he'd been weak and she'd barely scraped by - though it was nothing compared to the eternity of empty blackness that had come when the hag had cut Ally off completely. This one, this Winchester brother, he was...

She opened her eyes, shaking as she did it, but she propped herself up.

He sat on the tiles, one leg bent, elbow on his knee. His vivid green eyes pierced her and she became astoundingly aware that the dirty white shirt she'd worn for the past year was as good as non existent it was so see through.

Contrary to popular belief, Ally was shy. Succubi were supposed to be seductive creatures of the night. Ally had never been able to pull that whole personality off. It was why she loved small towns. Get a loyal dozen of men, get to know them, and she lived that way. Shacking up with straight up strangers?

Ally flushed with what little blood she had, "Um... hi."

He raised an eyebrow, "Hi." She nearly curled her toes at the sound of his voice. Deep, sinful, and just the right kind of lazy.

"I'm Ally."

"Dean."

Her shaking arm gave a little, the tiny shot of sex quickly fading away. He raised his head when she slipped an inch, but she had to know, "Why are you doing this?"

He neatly got to his knees, "Why am I, a hunter, saving a succubus from starving to death?"

She flushed and she would have slumped back against the wall, but his arm was there, "Yeah."

"You could say that, as a fellow regular of bar closets, we belong to a club." His grin was... _hot_ , "In fact, you could say I'm the president. As president, I take protection of my club members very personally." He picked up a motel courtesy sponge, "As part one of protection services, I think we should get you cleaned up."

Dean Winchester redefined the word _lather_.

Only once he'd covered every inch of her body, whilst supporting her with firm hips up against the wall, he took one of the shower heads out of it's cradle and washed her. Her skin warmed as the skin to skin contact sent a flood of heat through her, the shower head soothing away a year's worth of dirt. As his sexual energy flowed into her, the bruises healed too. Her hair softened, her breasts fleshed out, and her ass once again became what several of her men had called the finest bottom in America.

Stronger, though still shaking, she could react to the shower head, especially when it sluiced up the inside of her leg and washed over her _there_. She gripped his arms.

"There you go," he murmured, flexing. His hips, and the long, velvety rod that had been unobtrusively stroking her ass rocked against her and she moaned - for the first time in a year - from pleasure rather than pain. Twelve months of starvation made every feeling even more exquisite, especially when the flood of red energy flowing from his spiked.

Her hold strengthened, but as the water played havoc with her mind, she gasped, " _Please_."

"Please _what_?" he whispered devilishly.

"I need," she wiggled, the idea of saying the words out loud making her blush. None of her country boys had ever asked her to elaborate. This Dean, he was different. He rocked again and she half hissed, "Inside me. Please. I need-" It had been too long. She'd endured the pencil of a dick that her captor had claimed, but she'd missed her men. She'd missed real sex, although as her eyes clashed with Dean Winchester's, she wondered if she'd ever really known what sex was.

He drew her arms over her head, clasping them in one hand as he hiked one of her legs over his hip, his head nudging the dripping folds of her center, "As you wish."

He entered her and they both stopped. She realized, from the look in his eyes, that he'd never screwed a succubus before. Sure she didn't feed on souls, but she was still what she was. All succubi, when engaged, summoned up feelings than men and women simply weren't capable of. One of her boys had once tried to explain it, saying it was like every feeling was multiplied ten times then set on fire and charged with electricity. She assumed it made for a powerful experience. Dean's eyes nearly crossed and he grunted, hiking up her other leg and sinking even deeper. What she'd thought had been a flood had been only a trickle. She was slammed with red hot fire, an inferno of energy sweeping into her body and ricocheting back into it's source. Dean jerked, eyes closing tightly, then he pulled out of her, nearly making her cry out with despair, before surging back in and up.

He set a rhythm, a hot and heady thud of their bodies that she mindlessly urged onward. The pressure built and built, a lava pit boiling beneath an ancient, dormant lid. She wound tighter and tighter, the two of them melding, until suddenly it broke. Every inch of her convulsed, her arms wrapping around him and hanging on for dear life as she rocketed into the atmosphere. From the feeling of his rigid body, he went right along with her.

As the waves receded, they both sank to the floor, a breathless heap of trembling limbs. The shower felt nice, refreshing on her superheated skin. Without looking, she knew she'd nearly halfway recovered her regular form.

Ally wasn't a knockout, she didn't have nearly enough sex for that, but she didn't look bad either. She had mid back length brown curls, tanned skin, a nose dusted with pale freckles, and honey brown eyes. As she struggled to breath - for entirely different reasons than she had that morning - Dean's liquid emerald eyes took her in and she could see he liked what he saw.

"I don't think Sam will recognize you."

She huffed, heart still thudding, "Sam?"

He pushed to a half upright position, "My brother. I expect they'll be back soon," he studied her, "so are you okay?"

Ally sat up too, "Better than I was."

"But not all the way." It wasn't a question.

She raised her eyebrows at him, "I know the effect I have on... well, I'll be surprised if you can stay awake for longer than an hour, honestly. I haven't had sex like that in... at least two hundred years."

He grinned, "Who is my competition?"

"Hercules? I don't suppose you've heard of him?"

Dean sat up all the way, "As in half god Herc?"

She shrugged, "He had a thing for damsels and I have a thing for arms." She gazed at his appreciatively for a second, then sighed, "But my point is, after a bout like that, you should be passing out in the next thirty minutes."

He yawned sheepishly, "As much as I would love to prove you wrong, I have to agree. We should get dressed."

They did, though she had to point out she had nothing of her own. He tossed her a huge t-shirt from a different bag then the one he dressed from. It hung to just past mid thigh on her, though she had to wrap her arms around her middle to feel like she wore anything at all. A knock sounded at the door just as he pulled on a shirt.

Running a hand through his still dripping hair, he greeted his brother. He held a shopping bag of drugstore mini pies and a bag of fast food. Dean swept past him, confiscating half of the pies and food then leaving with a backwards wave towards Ally. He yelled back, "I've gotta go clean up, take care of her, will you?"

Sam was left staring after the black impala that Dean jumped into with Castiel - oddly in the back seat - his face slack.

Ally felt like her whole body was pink. She knew exactly what Dean had meant and although she knew he had told his brother to do exactly what any real succubus would want him to, she felt only embarrassed. To have that kind of sex with one brother and then turn around and do the other? There had to be some kind of eternal law against it.

Sam closed the door, "Well."

She curled up against the headboard.

He took her in out of the corner of his eye, "You're looking... better."

She nodded."

He sat at the table with a laptop, studying the screen for a second, then he shut it, "So I assume what he meant by take care of you..."

She blushed, "You don't have to do anything. Really. I just need to get home and call one of my boys-"

"The librarian from the black lagoon killed them."

Ally sat up, "What?"

He looked surprised at her alarm, "Yeah, she sucked all the guys you were... well, we thought it was you. Thought you were done with them and killing them off. But apparently she'd kidnapped you and... and- hey, hey don't _cry_."

She wrapped her arms around her middle, aching. Sam sat next to her on the bed, placing an arm around her shoulders, shushing her gently, but she couldn't help it. She'd loved her boys, in her own way. They were all sweet boys, they all had bright futures - futures with wives and children and mediocre, happy small town things. She'd wanted the best for them but now they were all dead. They'd been her friends, all of them, confiding in her and spending time with her - they'd all known what she was.

Ally turned into his wide shoulder - heavens, he was a big guy - and cried for a while.

Eventually, her sobbing turned into words, "'S my fault."

Sam bent down, "Is not!"

She raised tear filled eyes to him, "Is so. The only thing connecting them all was me. They'd still be alive if it weren't for-"

"No, she was going along the border, sucking whole towns dry of their college boys. She killed a couple more than just yours, it's just when your guys realized you were missing, they loaded up guns and set a trap. We thought they were all nuts, but they were right all along. They all died trying to find you."

She cried even harder, "See, it was my fault!"

He rubbed her back, "They died protecting you. That's not so awful-"

"But look at what I am! I'm a demon, a muddy blooded-" she moved out of his arms, getting to her feet, but then her knees gave out and she fell. Dean had saved her from dying, but she was just as weak as if she hadn't slept with someone in three weeks - a long time for a succubus. He was lifting her back onto the bed in a second.

"You aren't a demon - I looked up a few thing. You are a quarter demon, sure, but everything else is human. Hence why you don't need a soul or a life to live, just a little sin." He tilted her chin up, "Speaking of which, you look sick still."

She hiccuped, "Dean... a man can only do so much... he saved me, it was enough. I can't ask you-"

He wiped a stray tear away, "Can't ask me to what? Have sex with a beautiful girl? I think I can bear the burden."

She gave a teary laugh, "I wouldn't say I look beautiful right now."

"After a year of being starved, I wouldn't either. Now... if you'd stop crying, I could take care of you."

Ally sniffed, "You're very kind."

"On contrary, as twisted as this might sound, I'm horny as hell right now."

She glanced down at his lap, the evidence straining against his jeans, and flushed, "Sorry, it's this thing I do whenever I'm super weak. It's like the nearest man is reduced to-"

His lips were hungry, just as hungry as she was, but soft. She very quickly realized he was not his brother. Dean was fire and red heat, Sam was luxury and a cool blue heat that reminded her of her years in a Jamaican paradise. He kissed her like they were drowning and they had all the time in the world to do it.

She somehow found her way onto his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs. When they slid up onto her hips, he broke the kiss and asked, "No underwear?"

She whispered, "Never."

Nearly growling, he resumed his kiss and laid back on the bed, pulling her on top of him. He was... huge. She wasn't a tall person, only 5'4, and she was fairly certain his feet were still on the floor although his head was nearly on the other edge of the full sized mattress.

Ally settled her weight onto his lap, the hard bulge of flesh pressing against her a wonderful hint at what was to come. He groaned when she rocked her hips, hands slipping under his shirt and over a washboard of abs, onto a beautiful firm chest. He rocked his hips in return when she lightly scraped her nails down his stomach.

"You're wearing too many clothes-" Her words produced an immediate response. He shucked his t-shirt, revealing a glorious vista of ridges and muscle. Ally marveled at the carved body before her, "Do you sleep in the gym, or do you just spend every day there."

He chuckled warmly, "Hunting and healthy eating. Better than any fitness program."

She raked her nails up his abs again, "I like."

Sam grinned, reaching up and - before she knew it, she'd been flipped onto her back. He moved down her body, hiking up the hem of his t-shirt tauntingly, "Want to know what I like?"

He kissed up the inside of her thigh and she very willingly opened for him when he nudged her thighs apart. For a moment, his breath cooled her molten center, his hazel eyes meeting hers. She stared at him, surprised. Her boys, bless their hearts, had never really thought of anything other then getting their dicks in. Ally hadn't cared, she loved anything and everything sexual that happened. Sam though, he was treating her like... a girl. A human girl.

He lowered his head, placing his hot lips against her, and Ally dropped her head back, sure that she was dying again. His tongue danced around, shallowly penetrating but drawing back, taunting her. She writhed, hands pulling at the cool sheets, moaning loud enough that surely the whole town could hear. She didn't care. "Samsamsam _saaaaaaam_ -" She needed more, deeper, faster.

"Mmm?" he said, the sound thrumming right through her.

"Pleaseohpleaseohplease-"

"Please what?" he asked innocently, this time lifting his head and placing tiny kisses along the inside of her thigh. She was being tortured.

She raised her head, chest heaving, "Pants off. Dick inside me. Now." Never in her life had she ever been so straight forward but when his hazel eyes flashed heat, she was glad she'd done it.

He stood, quickly unzipping his jeans. Clearly, the taller brother had been blessed with larger everything. He turned her so her head was on a pillow, they lay between her thighs, hot rod slipping along her length. She rocked against it, reveling, but her need grew more intense.

His hands, hot and big, traveled up the inside of her shirt, up to her breasts. She sucked in a breath when he lifted the shirt, bending back to be able to reach the aching peaks. Mouth hot, he kissed up the side, then up the other, then did the same to the other breasts. She bucked against him, so hot she felt like she was going to light the bedsheets on fire.

He grinned against her, "Is this what you want?"

He rolled his hip, the head of his cock nudging her entrance. The languid pace was driving her insane. She gasped, raking her nails along his spine, and his eyes widened, hips rocking deeper. He hadn't planned to but the second he entered her, the true connection of her succubus side broke over him and he thrust forward. Big, big, he was big - she bit the side of his neck, wild. He'd drawn out every moment until she was soaking the sheets ready for him, needing him.

Sam growled then and, finally, set a deep rocking motion. He angled his hips, driving across that spot inside her, turning her body into nothing more than a writhing mass of pleasure. He didn't pound into her but his rhythm was steady, winding her tighter and tighter - she felt like every muscle in her body was drawn into the motion until, suddenly, his hand slid between them, his rough voice in her ear, "Now. Let go. _Now_!"

She, quite literally, screamed. Every cell burst, her body tightening around his as they both stiffened, thrown together into a mindless abyss. It was a long time before she rediscovered her body, boneless as it was. She felt, in her center, a tug, and she knew what was about to happen.

In her life, she'd made a rule to keep twenty four hours in between each "encounter" because, another little tidbit of succubus sex, she drew men back to her. Dean, his hair mussed, stood in the door. Castiel, expressionlessly, drew the door closed behind him.

He stripped.

Straddling Sam, she languidly stroked him as Dean entered her from behind, his hand hot on her hips. There was that red hot fire, funneling through her and spiraling her into a higher plane then she'd ever been before. Sam, still connected, obviously felt the spike because he perked up too, right in her hands.

She moved away from Dean, sliding down onto Sam, rocking happily, but Dean's hand slid up her spine, reminding her.

Ally leaned forward and Dean, with Sam's a membrane away, worked his dick into her ass. She closed her eyes, toes curling, rocking only slightly as he worked. His breath was hot on her shoulder, his teeth sharp. Only when she felt him shudder did she begin to move. Back and forth, the three of them, their two cords of liquid fire funneling through her, filling her up to bursting. She moved faster, loving the sounds of their grunting, like animals - this was pure, physical bliss. Dean's hand came around her hip, touching the core of her fire, and she slammed back into the both of them.

They all melded - for a single, heart stopping instant - then came crashing down in a glorious fall from heaven.

Sometime later, Dean woke, belly down and buck naked at the foot of the bed, Ally right next to him. Sam was against the headboard, looking like he'd been screwed within an inch of his life - which, if Dean's foggy memory was anything to go by - he had. He stared at Ally, the succubus who blushed because of sleeping with a stranger.

As though she knew he was looking, she opened her honey eyes, molten as they clashed with his. After a night of such intense sex, she looked beyond beautiful There were no words for her in that moment and, hopelessly, Dean realized he loved her.

He got up and turned on the shower.

She joined him, warm lithe body pressing against his in the place where it had all began, "He won't remember, you know. Not that last part. He was so out of it by the time you got back, he's only going to remember the first bit."

Dean nodded, not knowing what to say. He'd had beautiful women - hell, he'd slept with a porn star - thing was, nothing came close to what he'd just experienced with Ally. But she was a nomad, all succubi were. He frowned. He'd left behind love before. This was no different.

Kissing under the spray, he thought to himself, _who was he kidding_? She was the best he'd ever had and would ever have.

"What's next for you?" he asked, lathering her back, trying to focus.

She sighed, "I don't know. You two saved me but... my boys, they're... well, they're gone. I guess I'll have to move on."

Dean tossed the sponge to the corner, turning her around, "I don't suppose you'd like to move on with us, would you?"

Ally looked up at him, honey eyes wide, "What?"

"See-"

\- three days later -

"- we've got this here bat cave and it could use someone to hold down the fort."

She stood at the top of the stairs, looking around her in wonder, "There's so many _books_..."

Dean leaned against the rail, "You like books?"

"Well yeah, I just... I've never had the time to really read any. Being what I am, I've always had to concentrate on staying alive."

"Would the be a problem if you stayed here?"

She met his green eyed gaze, "It depends."

"On what?"

"Where you room is and if I can stay in it."

From somewhere below, Sam laughed, but Dean leaned closer, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they descended, her hand in his sparking with a red hot thread already visible in his jeans, Sam emerged from a door, a stack of books in his arms, "So you like to read, good. We have a case, something about a cerberous in Tennessee."

Dean groaned and Ally dropped his hand, fascinated, "What's that?"

 **Anyway lovelies, hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment, a review, I might do more one shots eventually, we'll see :)**


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